


ReDrUm- the Blood Splatters on the Wall

by Laurincia, PapaKapkan



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, another murder au, but uh yeet, im a sadistic bastard and somebody has to end me, im so sorry ahead of time, the murder mayhem never stops in this household, this time with more operators, watch me kill everyone you love in increasingly horrible ways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:49:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurincia/pseuds/Laurincia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapaKapkan/pseuds/PapaKapkan
Summary: Rainbow Six security is compromised, the base is put on lock down. Meanwhile the traitors who sold out technology and intel are still inside the building wreaking havoc. When Doc is killed, Lion takes over his investigation. Fuze ends up helping along the way and acting as a body guard to Lion. Things get out of hand and the remaining operators are forced to take matters into their own hands when the buildings power is cut. Murder, Mayhem, Dismay! Everything goes down.





	1. Prologue

“You can’t be serious? Are we  _ really _ going to do this?” A female voice spoke. The male nodded. The two gathered up as many of the supplies they saw from the workshop tables. Even partially dismantled, it was enough for their job. 

A body nearby bled out slowly. The woman looked down at it and muttered one final thing before they shut the doors of the workshop. 

“I’m sorry. We had to do this. I’ll make up for it later, I guess.” she spoke. 

The room was silent. Dead eyes looked up to the ceiling, a look of betrayal smeared over the dead man’s face. 


	2. Two Peas in a Pod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things happen

Lion was casually reading the news over some coffee when Ash came running into the room shouting about someone being dead. The base had already been put on lockdown due to some security issues. Oliver knows things are rough right now, with tensions high, and everybody suspecting each other of betraying security information. But killing another operator over it? He finds himself surprised about it. Sitting up, he can hear Ash talking in a “hushed” tone. She isn’t being very discreet about it, he decides. Watching her and Doc interact in a rushed manner, the two had run off to go investigate the body. Nearby he hears Fuze grunt and says something in Russian to Kapkan who sat nearby. Kapkan looks up from his phone and laughs in response to whatever sarcastic remark Fuze spit out just then. He relaxes back into his seat, taking a sip from his coffee as his good friend Lera walks over. 

“Did you hear? We had our first murder on base.” she jokes, poorly timed, however, as Olivier replies with a frown on his face. 

“Who died?” Frost interjects from a table nearby, her crossword puzzle momentarily forgotten. 

“Mute. He was found dead this morning in the workshop. Nobody knows exactly what happened, much less why. But a lot of gear was taken, which is probably why we’re under lockdown right now.” Finka replied. Frost nods and takes a sip of her own coffee. 

Nearby, Jackal wanders in. Clearly, the man hasn’t slept through the night and is searching for someone. Olivier watches him as he scans the crowd of bored operators. He joins Frost at the table, taking her coffee from nearby and drinking down most of the cup, leaving her scoffing at him. 

“Now why can’t you go get your own coffee, Ryad?” she asks, only slightly offended. 

“Because I saw that yours was still hot while Olivier there is only suffering through a slightly cold cup. Plus, I wanted to ask you where Sébastien was,” he replies as he eats Capitão’s food from nearby.

“Hey!” Vicente cries in faux anger out as Ryad takes a large handful of fries from the Brazillian’s plate and just shoves them all into his mouth. 

“Hrm, very good!” he says through a mouthful of starchy goodness. Tina rolls her eyes and goes back to working on her crossword puzzle.

Everybody was slightly on edge, but at least some things don’t change, Olivier noted. He smiled to himself as Ryad jumps up from the table and begins his search anew. Vicente shakes his head as he stands up to get some more food. Olivier drinks some more of his coffee while the operators shuffle about the room. Smoke is in the corner by the door, pacing silently, looking as if he hasn’t seen sleep in days. He watches the Brit with concern. Doc comes back into the room, and the two speak with Ash before Smoke storms off, clearly distraught and crying. The two leave as well, a curious Buck and Jackal passing the pair by as Doc and Ash whisper quietly to each other while they leave. Ash was not in a good mood, Olivier noted, as he saw the unpleasant expression on her face.

Alibi and Glaz both enter the room from the other side, the Italian woman walking backward in front of him carrying a juice box in one hand and her cell phone in the other as she talked his ear off. He couldn’t tell what Glaz’s expression was saying, but the two seemed to walk almost in sync, despite Aria walking backward compared to Timur, who’s pace made sure not to step on her feet as she moved. Pulse dropped an entire plate of food on the other side of the room to only get laughed at by Blackbeard and Thermite. Everything seemed alright for once. 

Ash arrives back at the room and told several people about how Mute was in fact murdered. Everyone almost immediately starts to gossip about it like high schoolers. The room fills with hushed whispers for what felt like forever before Olivier decided to get up and leave. He begins walking out as Lera joins him. The two walk to Doc’s office in a comfortable silence. 

“So why do you think Mute got killed?” Lera asks, trying to socialize slightly. 

“I’m not sure, the timing seems weird. You think Doc can really handle this alone? I feel like they should have assigned more people than just him to the investigation? Maybe Pulse, and I don’t know, Ash?” Olivier gestures vaguely. He feels confused, everything feels like it is about to fall apart and he has no idea why. The uncertainty was driving him mad. 

They were greeted with a terrible sight as they enter Doc’s office. Olivier screams as the two gaze upon Doc’s now dead body, slumped over the desk. Lera exchanges a look with Olivier as the two enter the room slowly. Lera picks up Doc’s phone and dials Ash’s office. The American operator answers swiftly. Lera explains the situation calmly. Olivier waits by the door quietly. Ash arrives no less than three minutes after the call. 

“Nobody else has been here, Eliza. Nobody at all.” Lera says to her as she walks up to the desk. 

“He was fine just twenty minutes ago! How could this happen?” She exclaimed. Several old coffee cups were discarded into the trash and Olivier had already begun digging through them. Lera was looking in any food containers found. Oliver found something on the bottom of an older coffee cup — Starbucks specifically. There was a residue on the bottom. Based on the date printed onto the cup via the stickers they use, it was almost two days ago. 

“Poison, it wasn’t even from today, probably something like ricin. Slow acting, probably hard to detect. He likes black coffee. It wouldn’t have been noticed, necessarily.” Lion stated as he examined the cup carefully. 

“ _ Shit _ !” Eliza exclaims. 

“Can’t investigate a body if you’re dead,” Lera says bitterly. She looked very sad as she sat down on a filing cabinet.

“Well we have to have this investigation still going,” Eliza says, refusing to look at Doc — or more accurately, his body. She turned to face the two CBRN operatives. “As of right now, you two are in charge of this investigation. Do _not_ let me down.” 

Lera had taken it upon herself to dig through any and all food scraps and containers she could get her hands on, meticulously checking for any hints of residual poisons or suspicious substances while Olivier scoured the entire base, raiding any and all trash cans he came across in search of more laced cups only to come up empty-handed. 

He took a seat at one of the tables in the common room with a tray of food containing a simple sandwich, a juice box and assorted fruits after he and Lera had obsessively checked all the food that came out of the kitchen, making sure they were safe before anyone could touch them. 

Ryad took the seat in front of Olivier and gave the Frenchman a smile as a greeting. "You look more tired than me." His tone was curious and amused. 

Olivier had to be cautious. Everyone — unless proven otherwise — was a suspect. "I'm sure you can understand why."

A dry laugh came from the Spaniard. "To think we're being taken out by a serial killer." Exhaustion was evident in Ryad’s voice. The stress of all the deaths happening is getting to him. “Who knows, maybe I’m next,” Ryad jokes, stealing a few of Olivier’s grapes. He's been taking food a lot recently, Oliver noted as he watched the Spaniard eat his grapes. 


	3. Пирог?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pie and coffee and murder. :)

Shuhrat Kessikbayev was worried. He was worried about a lot of things. Glaz is talking very kindly to Jackal, but he feels suspicious, probably for good reasons. Ryad seemed  _ off _ recently and Shuhrat was sure others have noticed. He decides to ignore their conversation for a moment to knead the dough in front of him. He smiles to himself thinking about how delicious pie sounds right about now. As he works the dough in his hands to make the perfect pie crust, he watches Jackal try and steal a handful of whatever food Glaz is holding. The sniper looked offended for a short moment but brushed it off. He hands the food over to Jackal laughing, Shuhrat could hear Glaz saying something about getting some coffee and watches as his teammate left to do just that. Glaz moves behind him, humming to himself as the coffee brews, and Glaz pulls out some sugar and milk. Jackal is talking to Buck now, the two laughing as they speak. 

Shuhrat pays no heed to Glaz making coffee behind coffee behind him, but he takes a peak to see what’s taking him so long. He sees a little plastic bag in his hand, it looked like sugar, so he turns back around to shove more of his homemade apple pie filling into the crust which he shoved into a round pan. He hums to himself as he does so, debating on whether he should use a streusel crust or a classic lattice top to it. Glaz walks over to where Buck and Jackal are standing and talks to them. Jackal takes Glaz’s coffee, which makes him laugh a horribly choked sound for a second in shock as Ryad downs the whole cup like it wasn’t burning hot. Glaz suggests something about taking a nap, rather than drowning himself in more caffeine, which Buck readily agrees with. The two men leave Glaz behind as he takes the dishes and shoves them into the kitchen sink.

Shuhrat felt a frown forming on his face as he watched the two leave the room, practically joined together at the hip. Something feels wrong. Shuhrat tires to ignore the terrible feeling in his gut, but he remembers what his mother always said to him. He can’t help but wonder if he should go check on the two but was stopped by Vigil asking him a question. He almost didn’t hear the Korean man at first. He turns to look at the man, confused. It takes him a bit longer from that to register that he is being asked a question. 

“Shuhrat? Hello? I need your assistance!” Vigil is waving his hand in front of his face. How long has he been standing here stupidly? He isn’t sure anymore. He blinks stupidly at the Korean man in front of him, unsure of what to say. 

“Пирог?” he asks in a dumb manner, gesturing to the pie in the oven dramatically. Vigil stares at him for a good minute before he starts laughing violently. A sound he had not expected from the quiet Korean, much less at such a volume.

“I have no  _ idea _ what you said, but thanks? I’m assuming you’re saying something about your piece of art in there, which I would be glad to have some, if you bring it with us to the workshop. I need help fixing my gadget, and uh… Mute is kind of… Unavailable.” he replies to the bemused Uzbek. 

“No offence, but why not… Jäger… or Twitch!” Shuhrat asks the quiet man. He shakes his head. 

“Neither of them are available. I can’t find Twitch anywhere, and Jäger is napping with headphones in. That bastard doesn’t move an inch when he sleeps, it's kind of terrifying.” Vigil spoke, having clearly rehearsed this response. 

“Fair play, once this comes out of the oven, we’ll split it up and bring it with us.” Shuhrat gestures to the oven. 

Meanwhile, while the two men were waiting on their pie to bake, Timur Glazkov had followed Sébastien and Ryad to the Spaniard’s room. He trails behind the duo just far enough to not be noticed. Sébastien is too busy trying to keep a now sluggish Ryad up on his feet to notice the Russian following anyways. As the duo enters Ryad’s room, Glaz shoves his foot in the doorway so that the door doesn’t click shut behind Sébastien. Sébastien pays no heed as he drags a slightly hyperventilating Spaniard into the bed. 

“Hold on here, I’ll go get Lion.” Buck says as he turns around. Glaz slams the door shut behind him, a wicked grin on his face. 

“You won’t be going anywhere, Côté.” the Russian speaks as he picks up a sports trophy from a table nearby, swinging it violently into Buck’s head. 

His gloved hand grips the trophy tighter as he leans over a semi-conscious Canadian. The man didn’t even have any time to scream while the trophy was brought back down upon his head again and again. Blood and gore spread everywhere. Timur made sure the Canadian was  _ more _ than dead by the time he was done. He stands up and looks at Ryad, his body seizing up on the bed as he gasps for breath. He smiles a disturbingly pleasant smile at the man, who tries to cry out but cannot. He walks over to the bed and presses the trophy into Ryad’s shaking hands, forcing his fingers to wrap around it. He shushes the man quietly. 

“Don’t worry, I made sure to put enough cyanide in that coffee for you so that you won’t suffer for long, Ryad. Take a good nap, you’ll never have to worry about your insomnia ever again.” he speaks so softly to the man in front of him. A hellish smile on his face as he stands up and leaves. Locking the door behind him so that nobody will know until it is far too late. 

Back with Shuhrat Kessikbayev and Chul Kyung Hwa the pie had finally finished baking, Shuhrat pulls it out of the oven while Chul watched looking over a cell phone. As the pie is set on the counter, Chul shoves his phone in his back pocket and stood up straight as the beautiful pie was left on the counter for a moment. The light smell of apples with a hint of cinnamon fills the kitchen they had taken up residence in for the last two hours. Glaz had come by again and grabbed some yogurt out of the fridge an hour ago, and left again to go paint. Shuhrat sniffs the air and sighs happily, bouncing on his heels as he hums a song his mother used to sing. He smiled cheerfully as he did so. 

“Smells good yes? My mother would be so proud of me, knowing that I took up baking in her memory.” he speaks fondly. Chul felt like he was invading on a very personal moment and opts to stay quiet while the usually gruff Uzbek hummed away as he cut into the pie for the duo. He places a couple of generous slices onto two small plates for the two, and grins at the Korean man in front of him.

“Let’s go, I think I’ve held you up long enough with my pie!” he says, as he then begins to lead the way to the workshop. 

Shuhrat realizes that something is off about Timur, but he decides that for now, it can wait. He can talk to Lion and Finka about it after he’s done helping Vigil with his gadget. He smiles as he eats a bite of the apple streusel pie he made and looks over the device with his temporary friend, ignoring the terrible feeling in his gut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuhrat regrets not listening to his dear mother's advice and following up on his hunches.


	4. Splat and Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So manY?????

Tina Lin Tsang was working on yet another crossword puzzle, she was nearing the end of the shitty little book she had bought at the last airport she ended up at a while back. She was not expecting to have so much free time on her hands as of late. She sighs as she sits upright in her chair, rolling up her sleeve to check her watch. It has been quite some time since she had seen either Ryad or Sébastien, and so she brought it upon herself to make sure the two weren’t getting into any trouble wherever they were holed up, now. As she rose from her chair she stretches her limbs, groaning as her joints crack. She sets down the puzzle book and leaves the room she had decided hours ago would be very cozy. Now, however, she would give anything to be able to go outside for even a few minutes. Breathe in the fresh air. 

As she reaches the door, she hears a clang from the other side of the room. She turns around slowly, curiously eyeing the set of doors that lead to a part of the building that hasn’t been put to use yet. Slowly she begins to walk. She walks slowly and carefully in case a feral animal has been let loose in the building. She can’t help but think,  _ but what if it’s the traitor? _ She couldn’t help herself, however. She reckons she could handle whatever or whoever is on the other side of the door. She readies herself as she reaches the door, having grabbed a fire poker from nearby on her way over, one hand reaching out for the doorknob. She yanked the door open and a raccoon comes scuttling out, scaring the shit out of Tina as it runs by making all kinds of noise. She sighs and laughs at the hilarity of the situation. Closing the door behind her, she is unaware of what made the raccoons attracted to that particular area just a few feet from the door. 

Somewhere across the base, Shuhrat Kessikbayev is wandering the halls of the base alone. Making his way for what used to be Doc’s office, but now has been raided several times over by both Lion and Finka for their investigation. When he enters the office he sees Lera passed out in Doc’s old chair. Her feet are propped up on the desk while she leans back into the chair. A file sat open on her lap, her hand over the middle of it while her other arm hung over the edge of the chair, her hand pointed towards the floor. Lion stood behind her, digging through several files and loose papers that Doc hadn’t quite gotten to actually organizing. He was muttering in French as he did so. He rapped lightly on the open door, gaining the attention of the French man inside. Olivier turns around to face him. 

“Is something the matter?” Olivier asked.

Shuhrat hesitated for a moment before speaking. “It’s Glaz.” 

Cocking his head to the side, Olivier asked about his teammate. 

“He’s been acting… strange.”

"How so?”

Shuhrat stuttered, unable to find the correct words on how to describe it and being frustrated that he couldn’t. “Just  _ strange _ .” 

Olivier frowned but nodded, wondering to himself about potential ways the sniper could act that would get Shuhrat to label his behavior as  _ strange _ . “We’ll keep an eye on him.” 

Shuhrat left the office and head to his room, quiet. It hurt to pin his long-time friend and teammate as a suspect, but he had to. There were many more lives at stake. Opening the door to his room, Shuhrat reached to turn on the lights but was stopped. A slim, slender figure slammed his head into the wall and he could feel cold metal slide into his stomach. Shuhrat didn’t try and fight back. His head hurt and blood ran down his stomach. He turned tail and ran. He ran out of his room and in the direction of Lion’s office, passing Eliza on the way. He could hear her alarmed and concerned voice as she called out to him but he couldn’t stop. 

He barreled through the door and collapsed on the floor, gasping for air. Olivier and Lera instantly rushed to his aid, picking him up and placing him on a stretcher. Ash came in following Shuhrat and did her best to help. 

A few moments later, the wound on Shuhrat’s stomach was closed up and he was in stable condition. Olivier handed the Uzbek a dose of morphine and asked what happened. 

Shuhrat shook his head. 

Olivier rephrased his question as  _ who _ did it.

Shuhrat was unable to remember the exact details. “Small. Slender,” were all the words he said. Eliza sighed, dragging a hand down her face. 

“Don’t know about you, but sounds like Taina to me,” Lera muttered. 

Olivier scoffed. “If she wanted Fuze dead, he’d  _ be _ dead. She wouldn’t have missed.” 

Eliza picked up her phone and punched in a number. “Regardless, we need answers.” She called someone. “I need you to find Caveria and detain her, ASAP. I’ll explain everything later.”

A while later, on another side of the base, Pulse was assigned to interrogate the Brazillian the two sat in front of one another in an empty, soundproof room, in front of one-way glass. On the other side, stood Eliza and Olivier. Jack could understand why Taina was a suspect, with how she typically handles situations, but she  _ wasn’t _ guilty. Jack had been through plenty of interrogations to know what guilty looks like, even the most subtle of hints, but Taina wasn’t it. Everything about her screamed innocent, her screaming and cracking voice as she insisted she was in her room, her increasing frustration, how she hadn’t seen Fuze anywhere in a few days, much less have a  _ reason _ to stab him. Jack thanked her for her input and moved to meet the other two in the hallway. She said exactly what Olivier had said. “If I wanted him dead, he would be dead.” 

“What did you get?” Eliza asked. 

“Not her,” Jack simply stated. Eliza had always trusted Jack’s input, with how he can read people like an open book, see all the signs of guilt, but this time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“She’s going to stay there until there is  _ definitive _ proof that she’s innocent.” 

Jack opened his mouth to protest but Eliza cut him off. “I can’t risk it. I’m sure you can understand.” 

"Then you can be the one to tell her you don't trust her." He stormed out of the room leaving her on her own. She looked through the glass to where Taina sat. She looked upset, reasonably so if Jack is right. 

Meanwhile back upstairs Frost had taken another operator with her back upstairs to try 

and move the raccoons, more like lure them, downstairs and outside the doors. The slender woman walked quietly behind her. She spoke not a word, Tina just figured she was in a poor mood and didn’t push it. She opens up the doors and slowly walks into the empty part of the building. She was shocked to round the corner and find Bandit’s body slumped at the bottom of the wall, the raccoons that had snuck in were eating his corpse as it rested. Tina screams at the sight, backing up. The other operator with her runs forward and pushes her out the nearby window. The Canadian operator screams all the way down but falls deathly silent as she crunches against the pavement six stories below. The female operator stands at the broken window smiling to herself. 

The female operator makes her way back downstairs to finish what she started. But first she notices Tina’s cell phone sitting on a table beside a crossword puzzle book. The female puts on a thick leather glove and picks up the phone easily accessing it and sending a text to Lion. The text read only one word: J A C K A L. She saunters out of the room and leaves things exactly as they were. Her job was done up there. As she makes her way to Doc’s office for some paperwork she needed to steal on another operator she notices Lion and Ash breaking into Jackal’s room. She can hear their cries of despair as the door swings open on her lover’s handiwork. She smiles to herself fondly as she approaches the office.

Shuhrat heard a loud noise through his drug-filled haze, groaning and slowly sitting up on the bed he was placed in, tucked away in the corner of the medical wing. He remembered Olivier giving him some sort of pill to help sleep while he and Eliza went to investigate something, and the rest was blank. He pulled back the curtain hiding him from the rest of the med ward and slowly wandered around, searching for the cause of the noise. It was very possible Lera just knocked something over but the further Shuhrat walked, the more the sense of dread filled him. 

He heard a shout come from somewhere in the storage area. He hobbled over, using the wall as support and spotted Eliza comforting Olivier. The Frenchman was on the floor on his knees, holding his head in his hands. In front of him was Lera’s still body, skull caved in with a bloodied canister of oxygen next to her. Olivier’s face was contorted into a series of different emotions and Shuhrat could see his resolve breaking. One of his crutches had just been ripped out from under him.


	5. Grenades and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Yeah.

Pain was evident in Adriano’s expression, but the pain wasn’t physical. It was much deeper, a pain that burnerd your nerves and shattered the core of your very being. He stared at Aria blocking the only door to his exit. 

“I’m disappointed in you.” The somber tone did nothing to wipe the sadistic grin off her face. 

“I don’t need your approval, old man.” She tossed a grenade up in the air and caught it as it fell. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” She pulled the pin and dropped it into Adriano’s personal locker, closing the door as it hits the ground with a clank. 

She walks away, soaking in the sound of the explosion echoing through the armory, and relished in the fact that Adriano did nothing to stop her. No protests, just acceptance. She was done with him. Timur stood nearby watching the scene unfold. 

“What did you think of my show?” She says playfully as she places her hands on his chest, leaning towards him.

“Very lovely, now… where to? I’m sure somebody heard that, no?” He replies fondly. 

“Perhaps…  _ my _ room? I’m sure you’re still working with Maxim. Don’t want him to see anything that would  _ upset _ him, no?” She says as the two leave the scene of the crime.

Meanwhile, Shuhrat Kessikbayev was still laying in the medical ward  _ attempting _ to sleep. But again, something feels horribly wrong. He cannot place his finger on it at all. As he tosses and turns he can’t help but re-imagine the horrible look on Olivier’s face as he looked over the dead body of his now-former best friend. He looked completely and utterly broken. The despair haunts him and keeping sleep at bay. He decides he’s had enough rolling back and forth in the bed as he sits up, opting to wander around the med bay. 

The section where Lera’s body had been laying is taped off and sealed, left there to be forgotten. Shuhrat let out a sad sigh and continued walking. Kapkan probably didn’t even know yet about her death. He spotted dim lights coming from what used to be Doc’s office and went to investigate, lightly tapping his knuckles against the door. 

“Come in,” Olivier responded. His voice was quiet and tired. 

Shuhrat pushed open the door and spotted Olivier sitting in Doc’s old chair with his head in his hands and a bottle of unopened whiskey next to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. Shuhrat frowned.

“You’re in worse shape than me.” It's true. Olivier is now the sole person in charge of the investigation, along with being tasked with taking up the mantle of Doc. Sure, everyone has basic first aid training, but there are some things that bandages and gauze can't fix. Olivier let out a dry chuckle and sat up, dragging a hand down his face. His hair was a mess and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Shuhrat could guess what happened. Olivier stood up from the chair and stretched. 

“Did you need something?” Shuhrat shook his head. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Olivier hummed and grabbed the whiskey, hiding it away in a drawer. 

“I’ll get you something for that.” 

“No!” Olivier turned to look at him, confused. 

“Just… Stay with me. For the night,” Shuhrat pleaded. 

The Frenchman stared at him, alarmed at the request and the sheer bluntness of it but agreed regardless after seeing the fear behind the Uzbek’s eyes. Olivier didn’t blame him and lead Shuhrat to one of the couches in the small waiting area, thinking the other man wouldn’t be too fond of returning to his room. Shuhrat took a seat on the couch and watched Olivier as he dug through various cabinets before pulling out a stack of blankets on the fourth one. He had Shuhrat stand for a brief moment as Olivier reveals the couch to also be a futon by rolling out the couch.

Shuhrat makes a sound that was much like surprise and joy at the same time as Olivier gestures dramatically to the makeshift bed. The blankets were pathetically thin, but Shuhrat couldn’t find any energy in him to care about that as Olivier climbed in beside him. He was awkward and unsure of his actions. While Shuhrat was under the thin, useless blankets Olivier rests himself on top of the thin mattress. He lays on his side keeping some distance from the Uzbek, but still being close enough to offer him comfort. Shuhrat lays flat on his back trying to relax. The night is long, still, and he needs his rest if he is to recover at all. He listens to the French operators breath from nearby and is lulled slowly to sleep by it. 

Olivier watches as the man beside him slowly falls asleep. When he finally does he pulls out his cell phone and begins reading to keep himself entertained for the next few hours. He had already decided he will not be able to sleep. But even Olivier falls asleep his phone in one hand, and at some point in the night Shuhrat had cozied up to the warmth the other operator radiated, and so Olivier’s other arm had instinctively been draped over Shuhrat. The two slept in peace while Eliza paces the halls in a paranoid fashion.

Meanwhile Clash is sitting over a cup of warm tea while reading a book. Hoping the night passes quietly for once.


End file.
